


Desperation for Dessert

by letsgooutintherain



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Dubious Consent, M/M, Qui-Gon Lives, Sex Pollen, at least not full on sex, more like an aphrodisiac, not that any sex is happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 15:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsgooutintherain/pseuds/letsgooutintherain
Summary: When Qui-Gon accidentatlly drinks some kind of aphrodisiac, he is in for a long and uncomfortable night. Obi-Wan on the other hand would love to help, but since Qui-Gon is in no condition to consent that's off the table. There is only one upside: Finding a middle ground without either of them revealing their feelings might just be impossible.





	Desperation for Dessert

They didn't say it in so many words, but once the aftermath of that disaster on Naboo was over and Qui-Gon was back on his feet, the Council made sure to keep them apart. Missions sent them to opposing ends of the galaxy and their time on Coruscant rarely overlapped.

Obi-Wan suspected that they wanted to keep him away from Qui-Gon's rebellious influence as well as make him stand on his own two feet. "Qui-Gon's stubbornness I sense in you. Need that, you do not," had been Yoda's exact words, after Obi-Wan had fought to get Anakin into the Creche until Qui-Gon was healthy enough to take him as a padawan.

It didn't stop them from staying in contact. Holo calls at all odd hours of day and night due to the time differences and, if they were lucky and the Council not as careful in their planning, a short meeting at Dex's Diner. It wasn't much, but it was something. 

Another downside was that Obi-Wan and Anakin never quite warmed up to each other. Obi-Wan was ready to admit that they didn't have the best start and had apologized for the 'he is dangerous' comment, but even though the immediate feeling of 'he is going to be the death of me' had lessened, the boy still felt dangerous. And while Anakin accepted the apology, he remained somewhat wary around Obi-Wan. Maybe with time that would have changed, but they didn't get that time.

Before Obi-Wan had really thought about it, years had passed. He was a Jedi Knight in his own right with a pretty good success rate. He preferred partnered missions, but he had never found someone who complemented his skill set quite as Qui-Gon had done.

And then the Council changed their mind. Or maybe Obi-Wan was just the one closest to Qui-Gon's location. As it was, the negotiations had seemingly taken longer than expected and Anakin had to return early to Coroussant to complete some trials. Obi-Wan was to take Anakin's place for the remainder of the negotiations. No one had expected any trouble. Of course that was when everything went to hell.

* * *

"He won't find release without a mate," the doctor explained.

Obi-Wan pinched his nose. "How long will it last?"

"About half a day."

Obi-Wan tried to remember how long a day lasted on this planet, and if they used day as daylight hours or to indicate a complete turn of the planet and then gave up and just asked. "How long in standard time?"

"About five hours," the doctor said.

"Thanks," Obi-Wan muttered, silently cursing their bad luck, "Anything else I need to know?"

"Body contact helps," the doctor said, "Make sure he doesn't dehydrate and let him ride it out."

"Of course."

The doctor smiled and bustled away and Obi-Wan was left to get back to their quarters.

* * *

He found Qui-Gon kneeling on the soft carpet in the middle of the main room of their quarters, eyes closed, fists clenching and unclenching and a thin sheen of sweat on his face. He was also a little flushed and Obi-Wan mentally shoved his first thought, namely that Qui-Gon undone like this looked extremely hot, into the darkest corner of his mind to be forgotten like all the other thoughts of its kind he'd had over the years.

He hesitated for another second, unsure whether he should interrupt Qui-Gon's attempt at meditation with the useless news or just wait until Qui-Gon admitted that his try for the calm arms of the Force was doomed to fail.

A moment later Qui-Gon saved him the trouble. "News?" His eyes stayed closed.

"Nothing to do but wait it out, which should take approximately five standard hours. Body contact helps and-" Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat, but he refused to let it show in his voice. "-apparently you can't come without a partner." 

"Of course," Qui-Gon said and there was a note of resignation and gallows humor in his tone. 

Obi-Wan swallowed. "How are you holding up?"

"About as well as expected," Qui-Gon replied. Which didn't tell Obi-Wan anything at all, but it was reassuring none the less, because if his former master was coherent enough for diplomatic evasions he couldn't be too bad off. 

"In that case, how about we try the body contact," Obi-Wan offered, kneeling down in front of Qui-Gon and holding out his hands.

Qui-Gon finally opened his eyes, though if possible the tension in his body went up another notch. Obi-Wan absently noted how dark his eyes were, pupils blown too wide to be normal. Not that anything about this was normal. What kind of world concluded a celebration with giving out some kind of aphrodisiac?

For a few long heartbeats Qui-Gon didn't move, breathing a little fast, a warm flush on his face. Obi-Wan forced his own cheeks not to blush, because damn, the word hot didn't even cover it.

And then, slowly, Qui-Gon reached out and took his offered hands.

* * *

Qui-Gon shuddered in relief when Obi-Wan's fingers lightly squeezed around his. Relief but even more arousal. Whatever that juice did, it felt as if it had lit up every single nerve ending and wired it to his cock. Obi-Wan's touch went like lightning through him and he only just managed not to gasp. 

"Does it help?" Obi-Wan asked after a few beats of silence.

Qui-Gon licked his lips, dismissed his first answer 'More,' his second answer 'Please,' and settled for "Somewhat." His voice came out rough and he didn't even want to know what he looked like.

His whole being was filled with need for some form of release. Something, anything. He only realized he had gripped Obi-Wan's hands too hard, when Obi-Wan squeezed back lightly and let his thumbs draw circles on the back of Qui-Gon's hands. It was probably meant to be comforting, but the movement shot another bolt arousal through him and it was all he could do not to moan.

He needed to let go if he wanted to keep his sanity, but everything in him rebelled at the thought of giving up the contact. He needed Obi-Wan's hands on him like he needed his next breath.

Obi-Wan sat calmly in front of him, his worried gaze trained on Qui-Gon. Why did it have to be Obi-Wan with him? Obi-Wan who had grown more beautiful every time they had managed to meet. Obi-Wan who was passionate underneath the calm, steadfast in a storm, sarcastic and impish and so damn perfect. With anyone else Qui-Gon's desire might have been unfocused. Now Obi-Wan was all he could think about. 

"Do you want to try an assisted meditation?" Obi-Wan's voice cut through his thoughts. Qui-Gon latched on the change of topic gratefully. Anything to not think about Obi-Wan and what he would do if he had free reign. 

"Yes," Qui-Gon rasped and closed his eyes again. Maybe that way he could calm down enough to reach meditation so he could release the arousal, the want, the desperation into the Force. It would also help to pass the time in a manner that wouldn't drive him crazy.

Obi-Wan lightly squeezed his fingers again and Qui-Gon let out a quiet gasp. Heat shot through his body and his cock pulsed.

"Sorry," Obi-Wan whispered and when Qui-Gon blinked his eyes open again, Obi-Wan's cheeks held a light blush.

Then Obi-Wan's eyes closed and he took a deep breath. And another one. Qui-Gon forced himself to do the same, to match his breathing to the same rhythm. The Force changed around them. It was subtle at first, but then gained strength. Calmness saturated everything, with Obi-Wan at its center. 

It had been years since Qui-Gon had been on the receiving end of an assisted meditation. Usually he was the one who projected calm serenity into the Force, but right now he needed the line Obi-Wan had thrown him. 

He tried to open up, let it wash over him and not think about anything at all, tune out what his body screamed at him. He held on to Obi-Wan's calmness and somehow, even though it felt like it took forever, he managed to get deep enough into his own mind, to find a measure of calm in this chaos. He found his connection to the Force. 

Qui-Gon started to release what he felt, careful not to let it touch him and destroy his calm, but it was like trying to ladle water out of a sinking boat. It didn't matter how much he released, his body just kept sending the same signals all over again. For now it was working, but there was only so long he could stop the boat from going down.

* * *

Obi-Wan's first clue that something was wrong was when Qui-Gon's hands twitched in his, drawing him closer to the surface of his own meditation. Careful not to stop projecting Obi-Wan concentrated on his surroundings. Qui-Gon's breathing was no longer deep and relaxed. It was closer to panting and his hands twitched again. 

When Qui-Gon didn't show signs of calming down Obi-Wan opened his eyes, letting go of his own meditation. 

His chrono read half an hour past midnight local time. A short calculation told him that they had managed to meditate for about three hours, which was something, considering the circumstances. They were also down to a little less than 2 hours. Obi-Wan suppressed a yawn and cursed himself. Of all the times for his long nights to catch up with him, this was the worst. 

"Tea?" he offered, both because he desperately needed it to stay awake and because the doctor had said to keep Qui-Gon hydrated.

Qui-Gon twitched in answer and for a moment his grip on Obi-Wan's hands tightened, but then he took a deep breath and let go. "Good idea." If possible his voice sounded even rougher than it had before. 

Obi-Wan forced himself not to think too closely about that and fought his way to his feet. Stiff muscles protested the change in position and Obi-Wan stretched and then rolled his shoulders on his way to the kettle.

"How are you doing?" he asked, once the water was set to boil.

"I've been better," Qui-Gon admitted. He sounded both tired and on edge and Obi-Wan grimaced. A much less evasive answer, even if still downplayed, told him that Qui-Gon was past trying to get through this with his usual air of serenity.

It took another few minutes for the tea to get ready and when Obi-Wan returned Qui-Gon had gotten rid of his outer layers, leaving him in a thin shirt and trousers that stuck to his body where the material was damp with sweat. 

Qui-Gon's hair had tangled in his quest for less clothing, his cheeks looked burning hot and even from halfway across the room Obi-Wan could make out the too dark eyes. There was also a very obvious bulge in his trousers. Obi-Wan swallowed and once again forced his train of thought away from the picture Qui-Gon made.

He wanted to let his fingers slide through Qui-Gon's hair and carefully disentangle the strands. That thought wasn't new, Obi-Wan had always wanted an excuse to get his hands into Qui-Gon's hair. He shook his head, but there were too many other thoughts in the wake of that one. He wanted to cup Qui-Gon's face in his hands, trace the beard and then the lips with his fingertips. He wanted to kiss Qui-Gon. He always wanted to kiss Qui-Gon, but right now in the condition the man was in, the idea was doubly intoxicating because he could imagine how Qui-Gon might lean into that contact, crave it, need it.

Obi-Wan shook his head decisively and set the tea on the table.

Qui-Gon's hands flexed and clenched, but then he moved and sat with a quiet groan.

Obi-Wan winced in sympathy. He did not want to imagine being stuck in constant arousal with no chance of release for hours at a time. The problem was that he couldn't offer that release. From the second that aphrodisiac had taken hold Qui-Gon was no longer in the right frame of mind to give consent. Damn it all.

At least the tea would wake him up some.

* * *

Qui-Gon forced himself to loosen his grip on his tea cup again, before he could crack it in his hands. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to get through the next however many hours. His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, heat shot in waves through him and every movement reignited the need to come. 

It was a release he wasn't going to find. Not that he hadn't tried that already while Obi-Wan had talked to the doctor, but by now he felt desperate enough to try again anyway. 

He shifted in his seat, forced himself to ignore the way his cock sent another wave of desire through him, forced himself not to make a sound, to readjust his grip on the tea cup. Again. The next breath he drew in was shaking.

Obi-Wan looked up from his own tea, gaze going up and down, quickly assessing how he was. But then his gaze lingered for a few seconds longer, before he turned it back to his tea. 

The silence between them felt heavy.

Qui-Gon downed the rest of his tea in one long gulp. He needed... well he needed to come, but since there was no chance of that without a partner and he couldn't exactly ask Obi-Wan, he needed to find something else. Needed to keep his mind off it. 

With a frustrated growl he got to his feet, paced over to the wall and then back to his place on the carpet, because moving made it worse. Not that sitting still helped either because then he had to fight his restless energy on top of everything else, but he needed to not be able to stare at his Obi-Wan.

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan asked worriedly, but Qui-Gon just shook his head. He needed to get his thoughts away form Obi-Wan. If he didn't he would want those hands back. Smaller than his, rough from saber work and toned from missions on planets with a burning sun. He would want more, would want those hands everywhere on him, quenching the fire of his need while simultaneously fanning the flames. 

This was torture. Qui-Gon let himself curl forward with a groan, pressing his burning forehead to the carpet. It didn't help.

A cool hand on his shoulder, so close to his skin with only his thin shirt between them sent a shudder through his body and he wanted to arch into it, but for the moment his mind still was in the driver's seat of his body and he stopped himself.

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan asked again, "Qui-Gon, can you look at me?" There was the worry and part of Qui-Gon was sorry to have caused it. Most of him was too busy revelling in the feeling of that hand on him, lighting his nerve endings up once again. He looked up anyway. 

"Tell me what I can do," Obi-Wan said. 

The words 'Fuck me' were nearly out of Qui-Gon's mouth before he could catch them, but now that the thought was there he couldn't not think it. The idea of Obi-Wan in him, above him, surrounding him from all sides, touching him everywhere burned through his defenses. It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed his mind, but it was the first time he couldn't dismiss it immediately.

* * *

The silence stretched and Obi-Wan grew more concerned. Qui-Gon was worse, much worse than he had thought, if he had trouble to answer questions. Obi-Wan silently cursed that he couldn't use a force suggestion on Qui-Gon to make him sleep it off, but drugs like this tended to mess with them and Obi-Wan would rather not risk something going wrong. 

"Can you...?" Qui-Gon said and reached for Obi-Wan's free hand. 

"Of course," Obi-Wan replied and then both of Qui-Gon's hands, warm and a little sweaty, closed around his. Qui-Gon's head fell back and his eyes closed once again as a shudder went through his frame. 

Obi-Wan swallowed. Knowing that he was the reason Qui-Gon reacted like this, that just a few simple touches were enough to get him so worked up, that only a few more could probably make Qui-Gon come undone... It was intoxicating. Obi-Wan took a deep breath to calm himself down.

It was probably a good thing Qui-Gon wasn't looking at him, because Obi-Wan was sure his pupils were blown nearly as much as Qui-Gon's. 

Qui-Gon's hands moved a little further, closing around his arm. A few second's later he moved even higher, stopping just shy of his elbow with a quiet groan.

It took Obi-Wan a second to connect the dots on that one, before it became blindingly obvious. He blamed it on the tea taking his sweet time to kick in. "You need more contact, don't you?"

For a second Qui-Gon's grip tightened, before he let out a shaky breath and nodded. Nodded but didn't elaborate, which left Obi-Wan with the question of how to make more contact happen. For the umpteenth time he wondered where the line was. How much he could offer without crossing it. 

"Okay," he said, "Okay." With a decisive nod he removed his hand from Qui-Gon's shoulder, which resulted in a low keening sound. Qui-Gon followed the disappearing touch for a second, before sinking back down. "Sorry, just a second," Obi-Wan muttered and squeezed the arm he still had under his other hand in apology. 

It did spur him on to be faster though and he scooted around Qui-Gon, pulling him close so that they could sit chest to back, with only a little room where Obi-Wan was half hard in his trousers. It wasn't the easiest position, because damn, Qui-Gon was tall, but with Qui-Gon leaning back, Obi-Wan's chin fit just over his shoulder. 

Under his touch Qui-Gon was tense as a bowstring. 

"Is this okay?" Obi-Wan asked worried.

"Yes," Qui-Gon replied, but made no move to relax. If his hand's hadn't closed around Obi-Wan's arms again, pulling them close to his chest, Obi-Wan would have considered backing off a little. As it was he tried to relax himself. This close he could smell Qui-Gon. Sweat and that slightly earthy scent, that came from whatever Qui-Gon used to wash his hair with. The scent was home, even years apart hadn't changed that, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

* * *

Every single one of Qui-Gon's nerve endings was singing and it took everything in him not to react more than he already was, not to seek more of it, move against Obi-Wan. 

The only counterpoint he could hold on to was the pressure of the ground under his knees. He had been kneeling too long already. But that meant the same was true for Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan wouldn't say a word. It nearly hurt physically to contemplate letting go, even if it was only for a short time, but one of them had to say something.

"Couch," Qui-Gon rasped.

"What?" Obi-Wan said, and Force, Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's chest moving with the words against his back.

He forced himself to get his thoughts in order, but it was hard. Too hard. He felt drugged, drugged by Obi-Wan's touch more than the actual drug. "The couch is more comfortable in the long run," Qui-Gon got out. 

"If I get any more comfortable I'll fall asleep." Obi-Wan replied, a note of humor in his voice. 

"Then you do," Qui-Gon answered, "It's not as if I can't wake you if I..." need you was what he meant to say, but the image that came with it, of Obi-Wan holding him, impish grin on his face, about to make every last one of Qui-Gon's fantasies come true, made it impossible to voice it. He was still coherent enough to know that he could not let Obi-Wan know without losing him.

"Yeah, all right," Obi-Wan replied and his voice, too, sounded rougher and a little deeper.

Qui-Gon tensed, suddenly unable to let go of the arms around him, even though he had been the one to suggest moving. 

"It's just a few steps, come on," Obi-Wan said, and damn it, Qui-gon knew that, it was making the rest of him believe it that was the problem. 

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan whispered and then he shifted away and let go and Qui-Gon couldn't stop the whine at the loss of contact. Suddenly he felt too warm, too cold, too everything. He needed...

Obi-Wan's hand's grabbed his and pulled and somehow Qui-Gon managed to get his feet under him and follow his former padawan to the couch without pulling him close again.

"Come on," Obi-Wan said and then tugged him down with him. Qui-Gon let himself be moved, gave all the control into Obi-Wan's hands because he didn't trust himself not to do something he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for. Something like kissing Obi-Wan, burying himself as deep into his arms as he could, slot every inch of their bodies together until there was no more room between them and just grind into him, chase his orgasm against Obi-Wan's skin.

Obi-Wan had settled on his side and pulled Qui-Gon down with him, drew him back into his chest and then settled his arm over Qui-Gon's side, resting his hand over Qui-Gon's heart. Another shudder worked through Qui-Gon's body and his cock pulsed. He couldn't help the moan when Obi-Wan tangled their legs together. 

"Better?" Obi-Wan muttered. Once again, Qui-Gon could feel the word going through Obi-Wan's body this close to his, but on top of it he had Obi-Wan's breath tickling his hair. He wasn't sure how he would survive this. 

"Yeah," he rasped anyway. Because it was. It was better than the alternative. The idea of less contact felt unthinkable.

Once this was over, he knew he would hate how much control he had lost. How much he had let Obi-Wan see. His former padawan had already reacted much calmer and more importantly much more accommodating than Qui-Gon would have had if he had been caught in the same situation with Dooku.

Obi-Wan had just taken everything in stride, had never shied from his touch and had given no sign of being uncomfortable, no matter how Qui-Gon had reacted to the contact. Contact that even now lit his senses up, let pleasure course through him.

He needed to get his mind away from it. On anything that wasn't sex or touch. "Talk," he whispered, "Please."

For a second there was nothing and Qui-Gon worried that he would have to explain, but then Obi-Wan spoke up. 

"Fucking tea," he started, "This whole planet has it backwards. Stuff that should be harmless to drink turns out to be an aphrodisiac, but whatever passes for black tea on this planet does nothing to help with keeping me awake. It's probably a good thing you have me talking, or I'm really going to fall asleep on you."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, clenched a fist to stop himself from pressing his hand against his cock to find some kind of relief that would never be coming. He let Obi-Wan's words wash over him to drown out his own body until Obi-Wan sounded hoarse and the words were more mumbled than spoken. It didn't help and with every minute that passed the need to touch himself got stronger.

* * *

Obi-Wan fought his tired eyes and tried to come up with another topic. He didn't know how long he had been talking, but he had Qui-Gon caught up on all his last missions and the antics of his various mission partners. He had even shared what little bits of temple gossip he had heard since they had last talked. 

Before he could come up with anything, Qui-Gon groaned and curled in on himself further. 

"Qui-Gon?" he asked worried, but Qui-Gon just shook his head, body tense under Obi-Wan's arms, his breaths coming in harsh pants. A tremor ran through his frame and his shirt was damp with sweat. 

From his position behind him, Obi-Wan couldn't see Qui-Gon's face and now he regretted that choice. At the time he had thought of it as a way to not come anywhere near Qui-Gon's cock, so neither of them would be tempted. A barrier to keep him from crossing the line any more than he already had.

"Qui-Gon, talk to me," he pleaded.

Instead of an answer Qui-Gon's grip on his arm, where it was pressed against Qui-Gon's chest, tightened to the point that Obi-Wan suspected he might find bruises later. He was just about to say something when Qui-Gon let go and turned on his front, grinding desperately into the couch, once twice, before stilling again. 

The change in position had Obi-Wan lying awkwardly half on top, half next to Qui-Gon and he grit his teeth against his own wave of arousal. 

Another tremor ran through Qui-Gon's frame. And then: "Sorry," Qui-Gon whispered. His voice sounded wrecked.

"No," Obi-Wan replied, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Qui-Gon." He wasn't even sure what Qui-Gon was apologizing for. Losing control? He was drugged, it was to be expected.

Qui-Gon ground down again with a whimper, but managed to still again. When he spoke his voice was still rough and muffled by the cushions. "You shouldn't have to..." he broke off. 

Shouldn't have to what? But Qui-Gon didn't elaborate, too caught up in his own body, that shuddered under Obi-Wan's grip. 

"Whatever you think I shouldn't have to deal with, doesn't matter. I don't mind helping you." Only after he'd said it, it occurred to him that if he hadn't felt about Qui-Gon as he did, he possibly might have minded. And Qui-Gon didn't know that. 

For a moment he debated with himself whether reassuring Qui-Gon was worth the possible fallout, but in the end he was a coward on that front. He had no reason to believe Qui-Gon would take it well. 

"It can't be long now," he said instead. 

It took him a moment to check his chrono. Less than half an hour if he wasn't mistaken. And then what? Would the forced arousal just fade, or would it end if Qui-Gon managed to come even without help?

Yet another tremor went through Qui-Gon. "I can't..." another sharp panting breath and then Qui-Gon ground into the couch again. 

It made Obi-Wan feel incredibly helpless, being so close without being able to help any. If he could at least give Qui-Gon the peace of mind that whatever he did, it would be all right. 

"It's okay," he whispered instead, "Whatever happens, it's all right." He moved his hand and carded it through Qui-Gon's hair, carefully disentangling the strands. It was meant to be soothing, but it was also another line crossed. 

Qui-Gon moved into that new touch a shaky exhale leaving him. And then again: "I'm sorry."

And Obi-Wan couldn't take it. This wasn't Qui-Gon's fault and he should never have to think he had to apologize. 

"No," Obi-Wan replied, "Don't be. You don't need to be. Even if you had made me uncomfortable, which you didn't, you would never need to apologize for being drugged." 

Qui-Gon shook his head and then ground down again with a moan.

Obi-Wan groaned in frustration. Stubborn bantha. But he would try again anyway. "Qui-Gon Jinn, you listen to me. None of this is your fault and when it's over I'm not going to think any less of you. If I didn't think I'd cross a line you wouldn't want me to cross, I would have offered you a hand with that problem of yours from the start."

Qui-Gon froze and Obi-Wan cursed himself for saying that. But as always Qui-Gon's happiness had been more important than his own and he couldn't have him blame himself. 

"Do you want me to back off?" Obi-Wan asked. He hadn't meant to make Qui-Gon uncomfortable.

"No!" Qui-Gon said forcefully, and then a little more calmly: "Could you just talk?"

"About what?" Obi-Wan asked carefully, and he wasn't sure how well he hid his relief at not being sent away. The thought of losing Qui-Gon over this made his gut twist. But what did he want to hear? Was this about his offer or just general talking?

"Anything," Qui-Gon rasped.

"All right," Obi-Wan replied and after a moments thought started on his earliest memory. In his arms Qui-Gon still didn't move and Obi-Wan could feel the toll that took in the trembling of tense muscles. He disentangled another strand of hair and kept talking. 

Couldn't be long now.

* * *

It took a while for Qui-Gon to notice that the urgency of his desire slowly lost it's edge. To be honest, he only noticed, because Obi-Wan's finger in his hair stopped sending little tingles of want through his body. 

Not that it became any easier not to move. But then again, even without the aphrodisiac in the mix he had just gone through a few hours of orgasm denial. That didn't leave much room for deciding to ignore his cock. 

He ground down into the couch again and this time the movement didn't light him on fire, even if he got a jolt of pleasure. He ground again and just like that it was over. Pleasure swallowed him whole, his body locked up, his back arched and his vision whited out. 

When he came to, he was on his back and Obi-Wan no longer next to him. He swallowed against the wave of disappointment. He contemplated looking for him, but his body felt heavy and he couldn't really muster the energy to move. At least he no longer wanted to tear his hair out with frustration and need. 

Steps padded over from the other side of the room and then Obi-Wan was there, helping him to sit up and pressing a glass of water into his hand.

Qui-Gon drank gratefully and once he was finished Obi-Wan tugged at his arm. "Come on, let's get you to your bed."

Qui-Gon let himself be pulled to his feet and even managed to move into the next room mostly on his own steam. Force he was tired, but there was something that he needed to address first.

"What you said. That you would have helped if you didn't think it'd cross a line," Qui-Gon started and Obi-Wan tensed, "You never have to-"

"I know," Obi-Wan interrupted, shoulders drawn in, before he caught himself and relaxed.

"Then why would you even think of offering?" Qui-Gon asked.

Obi-Wan sighed and then shook his head. "You make it sound as if it was a sacrifice, Qui-Gon. It never would have been."

"You-"

But Obi-Wan interrupted him again. "Not right now, Qui-Gon. We are both exhausted and you are still on an endorphin high. We can talk tomorrow."

Qui-Gon hesitated. On the one hand, this was important, but on the other he was aware that his mind was not at its sharpest right now and he couldn't afford to miss something, to screw this up.

Because that had sounded a lot like Obi-Wan wouldn't have minded sleeping with him and in Qui-Gon's experience there was very little room for being neutral about such a thing. Either one was interested or disturbed by the idea. 

But even if Obi-Wan was interested, it said nothing about love. 

Yeah, this conversation really should wait. He couldn't trust his own train of thought to not go wrong somewhere, just because that was what he wanted to see. 

"All right," he conceded, "Good night, Obi-Wan."

"Good night," Obi-Wan replied, his voice soft and warm and there was a sad little smile on his face, before he turned to the door.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called. There was another thing that needed to be said. He waited for Obi-Wan to turn back and meet his eyes. "Thank you." He never would have gotten through this without his former padawan. 

"You are welcome," Obi-Wan said and then he was gone. 

Qui-Gon sank back into his pillows, but one movement reminded him of his sticky underwear. With a sigh he heaved himself out of the bed to change and get clean, before finally falling into the pillows. He didn't think he would be able to sleep, but within minutes he was out.

* * *

Obi-Wan slept fitfully and more than once it crossed his mind to cut his losses and be gone when Qui-Gon woke, but instead he found himself at the table in the main room, another cup of useless tea in his hands.

He was still tired, but that was par for the course these days. 

He forced himself to stay relaxed when he heard Qui-Gon stir. A minute later he could hear the shower starting, so he started another pot of tea. He had no idea how Qui-Gon would react, both to the situation as a whole and to what Obi-Wan had admitted. Last nights calm acceptance wasn't much to go on, as far as Obi-Wan knew he could still have been impaired.

He still couldn't believe he had said what he had, all but admitting his attraction. And all that just so Qui-Gon wouldn't blame himself. 

Ten minutes later Qui-Gon stepped into the room, hair damp, but otherwise looking as composed and Jedi like as ever. Also much more rested than Obi-Wan, but what else was new.

"You look like you didn't sleep a wink," Qui-Gon greeted. 

If Obi-Wan had been any less of a Jedi he would probably have thrown a pack of sugar at his head in answer. Instead he had to contend with sending him an unimpressed look. "Astute observation." And yeah, maybe his tone was a little closer to sharp than sarcastic. He shook his head. "Sorry. I really didn't sleep well." He handed Qui-Gon his tea, before he could inquire further. 

Qui-Gon took it and sat down at the table with a sigh. 

"Do you deem me sober and awake enough now to have that conversation?" Qui-Gon asked. 

"Do I have a choice in the matter?" Obi-Wan replied. He really didn't want to know what Qui-Gon made of his little confession. It might have only been the attraction part, not that he was so damn in love with him that some days he didn't know up from down, but it was still more than he had ever planned on Qui-Gon knowing. 

"Always," Qui-Gon said earnestly, "If you want me to drop it, I'll drop it."

Obi-Wan disguised his hesitation by taking a sip of his tea. It was tempting. But he was also self aware enough to know that not resolving this one way or the other would haunt him, not to mention there was always a chance that it might strain their relationship. 

And then there was the fact that not wanting to talk about it was a neon sign to this going deeper than simple attraction.

"Go ahead," he sighed, "And before you ask, yes, I'm attracted to you and no, I never seriously considered doing something about that. I know better." Damn it all, he really should know better. Qui-Gon was a master of words, there was no way he hadn't caught the note of sadness that had crept into his voice in the end. 

Obi-Wan should have gone for his negotiations persona for this and left emotions behind, but Qui-Gon knew that persona, it would have been just as obvious that he had something to hide. Either way he was screwed.

"You know better, but you still want to?" Qui-Gon asked as if on clue. 

"Wanting sex it kind of the nature of attraction," Obi-Wan said dryly. 

"True," Qui-Gon admitted, "But that's not what you meant." 

Damn. But Obi-Wan was not going to stay defensive for this. Qui-Gon had taught him better and years of solo missions had honed his skills to a razor sharp blade. 

"So what of it? You took the news a little too well yourself."

Qui-Gon's lips twitched up, as if pleased that Obi-Wan had finally decided to give this verbal sparring his all. And when had this escalated into a duel of master negotiators anyway? Oh, yes. When he had gone and used his attraction, big and obvious as his opening, hoping to distract Qui-Gon from looking deeper.

"The attraction is mutual, if that's what you wanted to hear, but that's not the point. There is something you are doing your best not to say," Qui-Gon said it easily, like it was no big deal, when in reality it was and that half beat of a pause that Obi-Wan took to process was another clue to be used in Qui-Gon's arsenal.

Obi-Wan was too tired for this. He could see where the discussion would lead and found no way to a favourable end. Either he backed out, still the master of his secret, but always knowing that Qui-Gon might have formed his own ideas about what he was hiding. Or he could go on, no longer using the truth to misdirect, but full on lying, hoping against hope that Qui-Gon would buy what he sold. He didn't want to lie. Not to Qui-Gon. There were worse things than a strategic retreat.

"True. And I wont, even if I'm flattered you think me attractive." He gave it a dry tone, a note of humor he didn't really feel. He hadn't expected Qui-Gon to be attracted to him, but it didn't really change anything. Attraction wasn't love and he wouldn't risk their friendship for anything less. 

Qui-Gon frowned. And that was not the reaction Obi-Wan had expected, mostly because it wasn't the I'm-unhappy-with-your-answer frown, but the your-reaction-was-unexpected-which-means-I-miscalculated-somewhere-and-I-don't-know-where frown.

Which meant Obi-Wan too had missed something. What was it that Qui-Gon had expected? What kind of assumptions had he made? He shook his head. He needed to stop this. This was not just a verbal sparring match. This was Qui-Gon.

"What kind of answer did you expect?" he asked curious, slipping into the old habit of discussing how their discussions had gone.

Qui-Gon sent him a wry smile. "I thought the assurance that you were not alone in your attraction would set you at ease. Instead..."

"Instead I ignored it," Obi-Wan finished, "Which robbed you of the opportunity to learn something from my reaction."

"I taught you too well," Qui-Gon said, "Though I'm still curious why it didn't seem relevant to you at all."

"Still looking for that reaction?" Obi-Wan asked but now he smiled too. This felt more playful and less like a duel for his secrets. He surprised himself when he did explain. "Unless you decide to act on your attraction, it is of no more consequence than mine. Something to be worked around on occasion but otherwise ignored. I value our friendship too much to risk it for a fling."

He wondered why Qui-Gon had thought it would have more impact than that. Unless the revelation of Obi-Wan's feelings had had a bigger impact on him and he'd expected the reverse to be true too. But Obi-Wan didn't voice it. He was just glad to have gotten out of this with both his secret and his relationship with Qui-Gon mostly intact.

"Not for a fling," Qui-Gon said slowly and Obi-Wan's heart sank. That was Qui-Gon thinking out loud. Obi-Wan cursed his tired mind for adding that last sentence. He damn well should know better. 

"Leave it. Please," he said, but it was too late when Qui-Gon's gaze sharpened on him again with that look that said he had figured it out. But at Obi-Wan's words he hesitated, tilted his head as if considering. At least he didn't look angry.

Still, this wasn't good. Attraction was one thing. That happened. But love? Love was attachment to the Council and even if Qui-Gon didn't care about that, just knowing it was there would change the way he interacted with Obi-Wan and that, Obi-Wan couldn't handle.

"If it helps any," Qui-Gon said, "I love you too."

Wait, what?

Qui-Gon's face was still warm and open and somehow Obi-Wan hadn't planned for that case at all. That Qui-Gon might feel the same had never even crossed his mind.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, when nothing useful to say presented itself. He tried again. "You... Really?"

Qui-Gon's smile deepened and then the natural shields around his presence in the Force unraveled a little, offering a glimpse at that love. And love he did, with as much terrifying intensity as Obi-Wan did. 

"Oh," he whispered. And then, because Qui-Gon shouldn't be the only one baring his soul, Obi-Wan opened his own shields. 

Qui-Gon's eyes widened, but his smile was so wide, it could have lit up the whole galaxy.

"So, not for a fling?" Qui-Gon asked, "How about for love?"

"Definitely for love," Obi-Wan replied. And because he had wanted to do it for ages and for the first time couldn't find a reason not to, Obi-Wan crossed the distance to Qui-Gon's chair, climbed in his lap and leaned in to kiss him. 

Qui-Gon's lips were warm and a little dry, he could taste the tea Qui-Gon had drunk just moments ago and just because he could he sank his hand into Qui-Gon's hair again, revelling in the silky strands, in soft lips and a hint of tongue. 

It was Qui-Gon who broke away for air first and he leaned his head against Qui-Gon's shoulder for a moment to catch his own breath.

"As much as I'd like to take this further," Qui-Gon rumbled a few seconds later, "For the next few days I'm not going to acknowledge that I have a cock, much less that it can get hard."

That startled a laugh out of Obi-Wan, but he sobered just as quickly. "Don't worry. After having us on the same planet for more than a few hours the Council will be much more thorough in keeping us apart for the next months."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Qui-Gon replied and there was a hint of a growl in his voice. 

Obi-Wan smiled. Normally he didn't appreciate Qui-Gon arguing with the Council, but for once he couldn't muster the will to be upset. This separation had gone on long enough. And even if outright arguing wasn't his style, Obi-Wan would find his own way of making his displeasure known. Between him and Qui-Gon they wouldn't know what hit them. 

But that was then. They had at least another hour before the Council would expect their report. With a grin he leaned in to kiss Qui-Gon again.

**Author's Note:**

> For the sex pollen prompt at the QuiObi week.  
> This fic turned out to be rather stubborn. I don't think I ever rewrote that many scenes. The result is not what I had in mind, but maybe you'll like it anyway. As always all mistakes are made by me. Thank you for reading.


End file.
